


100 things #5 (Sea Patrol)

by lil_1337



Series: 100 Things [5]
Category: Sea Patrol
Genre: F/M, Gen, mention of past child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-03
Updated: 2012-05-03
Packaged: 2017-11-06 19:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_1337/pseuds/lil_1337
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the LJ comm 100 things. A series of 100 drabbles/short fics, each in a different fandom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	100 things #5 (Sea Patrol)

Set during the final episode of the series between the time the boat blows up and Swain's funeral. I figured even with witnessing the explosion there would still be a rescue crew sent to look for survivors and recover bodies if possible. Given that R.O. knows how to scuba dive it made sense that he would be part of the team.

 

R.O. set his gear down carefully, making sure to be gentle with it. On autopilot he took the water bottle that has handed to him and drank, draining it to quench the thirst that came with diving. All of his energy was focused on keeping a tight reign on the anger and pain raging inside of him. He knew if he let even one tiny bit of it slip he wouldn't stop until everything that he could destroy was in ruins. The still rational part of his brain refused to give in strike out at anyone and anything he could touch. That was how his father would have reacted and if there was one thing Robert Dixon was not, it was his father. One thing R.O. Had learned early on was that the only thing he could control was his response to what his father and the rest of the world threw at him.

Around him the clank of tanks and the occasional ragged sigh reminded him he was not alone and that meant this was not a safe place to express the grief gnawing away in his gut. Muttering something about reporting he hurried out of the staging area without waiting for a response. On the bridge it was worse. Seeing Charge and Two Dads openly crying was bad enough, but watching Dutchie, stoically dry eyed holding a sobbing XO was worse. The captain was no where in sight. Undoubtedly making the call to Navcom or Mrs. Swain. Mrs. Blake R.O. corrected himself. Swain had been Swain for as long as R.O. had known him. Since they didn't really socialize except as part of the crew it was easy to forget that Swain had another name to the rest of the world. To his wife and parents he was Chris and to his little girl, daddy.

That thought was enough to send R.O. stumbling from the bridge. Running again because there was no place safe to stay. Hands reached for him, but he brushed them aside without seeing their owners. Swain had been a father and a damn good one. He deserved to have children like Doctor Soong the Korean refugee the Hammersley had rescued all those years ago. Unlike R.O.'s father who had thought the best way to deal with a badly behaved six year old was to lock him in a wardrobe before passing out and forgetting him. R.O. quickly shut out the emotions that tried to well to the surface even as his leg twinged from the memory.

R.O'd had his share of run ins with Swain. The differences in their personalities and positions made it impossible for them not to bump heads on occasion. R.O.'s rigidity frustrated Swain and his mindset of people first policy second went against everything R.O. structured his life by. In the end though, they'd always had each others backs. Swain had saved R.O.'s life and had been mostly patient in teaching him about the give and take of friendship. R.O.'s list of people he trusted could be ticked off on one hand with fingers left to spare and with Swain gone it had just gotten considerably smaller.

Not breaking or slowing his stride R.O. passed Bird, red eyed and sniffling, as she prepared supper. She tried to catch his eye looking for some kind of reassurance, but he had none to give. The raw vulnerability that showed on her face was something he could barely handle on the best of days and today was the antithesis of that. Head down he hurried past. Swain would have know exactly what to do and say, but he wasn't there and he never would be again.

Helpless anger and the inability to vent it any way that would be meaningful churned in R.O.'s gut. It tried to claw its way up his esophagus, but he fought it down as he unlocked the communications office and let himself in. His stomach would be a mess later, but right now R.O. didn't care. He was used to dealing with the aftermath of suppressing his emotions. Right now anything that was familiar, good or bad, was a welcome raft to cling to. He shut the door behind him and locked it, closing out the sadness and pain that permeated the ship. Here, safe behind a solid wall of metal that would admit no one without his permission, R.O. Allowed himself to sink to the floor and lose himself in his grief.


End file.
